


Supernova

by maraudertimes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Contains profanity, Drama, F/M, Next Generation, Romance, Scenes of a sexual nature - Freeform, Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme, Substance Abuse, mild violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 11:40:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7890421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudertimes/pseuds/maraudertimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>su•per•no•va<br/>/ˌso͞opərˈnōvə/</p><p>noun: a star that suddenly increases greatly in brightness because of a catastrophic explosion that ejects most of its mass.</p><p>I want to be a supernova.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fire Alarm

It started in Biology Class. One moment I was upright in my chair and the next I found myself on the ground, blood spurting from a tiny cut above my right eye while everyone in the class crowded around me. My teacher brought me to the nurse who patched me up and told me that should I ever feel faint again to come see her. Over the next few weeks I became a regular and Nancy and I became good friends.  
  
But as the end of the school year grew closer and Nancy began to get worried about me, I started to worry as well. Two days into the summer vacation I fainted on my way to the market and my mother finally brought me to the doctor. Now, two weeks later, I’m standing on the balcony from my room, staring up at the stars, an unlit Marlboro between my index and middle finger.  
  
 _Hurlington Family Status:_  
Lisa – crying in bedroom  
Frank – watching Arsenal play to try and drown out the screams in his head  
Amanda – dying  
  
They call it T-cell prolymphocytic leukemia. They say I’ve got about six more months to live. They ask if I want treatments that will only prolong my life expectancy by a few months at most; but at what cost? They explain that I’ll be bed-ridden, that the experience is much worse than the disease itself. They tell me that it’s my choice.  
  
I light the cigarette as my mother’s muted wails thread their way onto the balcony and sigh as the wind softly brushes against my face, whispering against the hoops in my ears and tousling the chin-length brown bob I’d had to get after one fainting episode left so much matted blood it was easier to chop the damn hair off than clean it out.  
  
It’s been three hours since I told the doctors to stick it where the sun don’t shine. Three hours since I broke my parents’ hearts. Three hours since I realized that without a doubt, I was a dead girl walking.  
  
Breathing in deeply I feel the smoke, so scratchy and lovely, quickly filling every space it can in my lungs, and I begin to wish that I could live in this moment until the end of time, without the cells in my body killing me from the inside out. Standing on a balcony, cigarette in hand, staring up at the stars – that's how I want to be remembered. Not as the girl whose body is betraying her with every breath, every step, every moment she lives. I want to burn out like a flare or a sparkler; I want to be heard like a fire alarm; I want people to notice me while they still can. I take another drag from the cigarette, my gaze unwavering from the absolute unknown of the sky above. I don’t want to be a black hole, sucking the happiness and joy from those I love.  
  
I want to be a supernova.


	2. Earthquake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It started in the forest...

It started in the forest. One moment I was slowly rocking back and forth on the abandoned tire swing and the next I found myself staring into the piercing brown eyes of a boy who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, my cigarette creating soft puffs of smoke between us.  
  
“Where did you come from?” I mused, leaning forwards a bit to study this strange boy, to commit his jet black hair and sharp features to memory.  
  
His eyes darted about the forest, canvasing the area, before finally they turned back to me. “Where are you going?” he retorted.  
  
He pulled out a B&H Silver and we ended any semblance of conversation as I offered him a light. I didn’t need conversation, not in that moment. Not when all I wanted was silence but the house was too loud for words. Not when all I needed was time to think but nothing could distract me from the thoughts I didn’t want.  
  
 _Hurlington Family Status:_  
Lisa – on the phone with doctor number whatever  
Frank – drinking at the pub to try and dry up the tears in his eyes  
Amanda – dying  
  
We spoke without words, that strange boy and I, his eyes asking me questions his mouth would never dare to. I’ve got cancer, I tried to tell him. I’m dying because this is one disease that I never had a chance against. But I don’t think he understood. I dropped the remnants of the Marlboro in the weeds at my feet, careful to extinguish the tip with the sole of my shoe, one last question in my throat.  
  
When my voice is heard, it is rough and ragged, so different from only a few short months ago. It’s amazing the amount of damage that inflammation and smoke can cause in such little time. “Where did you come from?”  
  
“Where are you going?” he responded, finishing the last of his cigarette as well.  
  
And now we are here, at an impasse, this beautiful strange boy and I, questions and wishes dancing in our bright eyes, his so dark they could be the kindling for a fire, mine so light only the morning sky is parallel.  
  
It’s been three days since I told the doctors to stick it where the sun don’t shine. Three days since I broke my parents’ hearts. Three days since I realized that without a doubt, I was a dead girl walking.  
  
Breathing in deeply I smell the pine that surrounds us, so beautiful and reminiscent of the cold and harsh winters that I begin to wish would freeze me in this moment until the end of time, freeze the cells in my body that are killing me from the inside out. Standing in this forest, my eyes promising wishes and desires to this strange boy – that’s how I want to be remembered. Not as the girl who lies in her bed, hoping for a miracle; I want to be felt like an earthquake; I want people to realize who I am while they still can. I stare deeper into those eyes, my gaze unwavering from the absolute unknown of this boy in front of me. I don’t want to just be one of the stars that are lost in the deep pools of his eyes.  
  
I want to be a supernova.

**Author's Note:**

> A.N.: Written for SlytherinChica08, bittersweetflames and Draculoramalfoy's Greek Myth Challenge (one more chapter to come). Also, I do not own Pride and Prejudice, that is entirely Jane Austen's! So, what did you think? Questions, comments, thoughts, concerns?


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